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We still sit at separate tables
And we sleep at different times
And the warm wind in the palm trees
Hasn’t helped to change our minds
It was the lure of the tropics
That I thought might heal the scars
Of a love burned out by silence
In a marriage minus heart

And I call the kids on the telephone
Say there’s something wrong out here
It’s July but it’s cold as Christmas
In the middle of the year
The temperature’s up to ninety-five
But there’s a winter look
In your mother’s eyes
And to melt the tears
There’s a heatwave here
So how come it’s as cold as Christmas
In the middle of the year

I dreamed of love
In a better climate
And for what it’s really worth
I put faith in the star we followed
To this Caribbean surf
But there’s an icy fringe
On everything
And I cannot find the lines
Where’s the beauty
In the beast we made
Why the frost in the summertime